


Some Nights Bite.

by FlyingWrites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU!S15, Gen, Some Other Earth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:07:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24059461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlyingWrites/pseuds/FlyingWrites
Summary: It was a bitch of a night.Not only Baby needed a new tire - again - but Sam wasn't talking to him since they drove back to the bunker.
Kudos: 1





	Some Nights Bite.

It was a bitch of a night.

Not only Baby needed a new tire - again - who should pay for the replacements all of the time ?!?- but Sam wasn't talking to him since they drove back to the bunker.

Swinging his duffel hastily on the floor after clearing the room, Dean wanted to puke. Every of his muscles hurt, shoulders the most, he wasn't even sure he didn't pop one again because the pain was bad, but figured since he drove halfway home it'll be good.

Sam drove the other half after a brief argument, in which Dean insisted he's Fine, goddamnit, and no, I didn't wince every third mile, you're seeing ghosts, Sammy. Other than the sucker we just salt and burned.

Sam, of course, wasn't having it and insisted he drives, or pull over, I'm walking on foot or hitching a ride.

That shut the bitching, Dean wasn't about to leave Sammy out like that, but the silence since then was grating on his nerves way worse than Sam's bitchfacing. Now he was blank facing, instead. And watching Dean with a little anxious side eye like he's gonna collapse in the passenger seat, or something.

But Dean had only stern looks back and since boyo wasn't talking, fine, not gonna get all chatty either.

Getting out of the car was a hassle, but thankfully it was the night already and they both were tired, so Sam didn't really see how clumsy (so tired) Dean got for a millisec.

Coming to the bunker didn't feel like home sweet home, either.   
Eyes trained on intruders that weren't there, not since that time they were jumped by many and Benny almost died, that Dean couldn't stop seeing since then.

Sure, he broke Sam out of whatever crazy spell he was on back then, but things weren't good. Sam was still cold son of a bitch in the little things, but Dean was determined to let that slide and keep going. He's my brother and we had worse. We're gonna pull through whichever brainwashing mojo Chuck placed on him this time, cause that's what we do.

But he didn't feel like pulling through, finally slinging the bag down and leaning to a table, too tired to sit.

Sam meanwhile disappeared into his room, to Dean's annoyance and relief alike. Fine, whatever, guess we're still not talking about you.

To be fair, Dean was aware they aren't talking about him and rusty irresponsible drive, either. Or the fact Dean really almost passed out behind the wheel, and just forced himself to not black out by the sheer force of will.

Reaching for the rest of the whiskey, Dean felt only slightly less bitter. Aah, painkillers. Goodie go. Will give that shoulder a look over in the morning, when he's rested.

A few hours later, hours he fell asleep on the kitchen table next to his glass, Sam gently kicks shoes in his direction and wakes him up. Not jolting awake, he's too tired for it, and not standing too straight, even though he tried for it, through the haze of how tired, achy, and now drunk he is.

Which is the moment Sam, obviously showered and taken care of his first aid on his own already, catches him, and very hoarse says, Come on, jerk. Let's get you to bed.

Before carefully picking him up and not touching on his ouchy shoulder, or the whole side, at all.

Soul damaged and formerly evil prick, or whatever he was just a couple months ago, he's Dean's brother, and got his back.

And bed, after it all, sounds like awesome place to be spending the rest of the long night.


End file.
